Jack Of The Lantern
by RachelStonebreaker
Summary: *COMPLETE* A Halloween Hobbit Tale. Frodo and Sam recall a story by Bilbo from long past.
1. The Darkness

Author: Rachel Stonebreaker  
  
Title: Jack of the Lantern  
  
Rating: G  
  
Summary: Co-authored story with Amy Sweetwater. Amy's version is slightly different and posted under her pen name Amaryllis Sweetwater (246551)on FanFiction.net and Yahoo's List Merry_Piplovers. This story is based on the European myth of Jack and the Lantern, a story about a man who rescues his true love from Hades by using his wits, his friends and a turnip. It's been modified to fit Hobbit fanfiction. Five chapters.  
  
Characters: Our favorite hobbits, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin and Bilbo  
  
Genre: Drama, Friendship  
  
Disclaimer: All hail JRRT, the master. I hope he doesn't mind us playing with his creation. I certainly don't make any money, fame or fortune off of my writings. I WISH I did, but I don't so don't sue me. Authors Notes: Amy conned me into writing this story. She'd heard me tell the Jack-o-lantern story about a zillion times to anyone who would listen as they passed by my ale stand at the Renaissance Faire where I work in the fall. Yeah, until the final Sunday of the Faire, it would get pretty slow the hour before closing, so I'd tell pagan and Elizabethan stories to entertain the crowds. Jack of the Lantern was one of the favorites.  
  
~ Chapter 1 ~ The Darkness  
  
Frodo and Sam stood unmoving looking wearily across the barren wastelands. Their journey to the gates of Mordor had only just begun, in reality. Yet it seemed as if they'd been walking and fighting and struggling for years upon years. Both were weary. Both were down in spirits. But Samwise, ever the stalwart, volunteered to take first watch as they settled for a very short rest. In truth, he was determined to keep the entire watch if Mister Frodo could get to sleep. Frodo needed sleep badly. As much as he needed food and fresh water. But neither of the two latter items were to be found anytime soon. So, it would have to be sleep, if it was to be anything.  
  
Sam had managed to convince Frodo to try and lie down. Perhaps if he closed his eyes, he'd at least get some sleep.  
  
Frodo, not to hurt Sam's feelings, obliged though he knew there'd be no more rest for him. There was nothing to do in the quiet except try to sleep as Sam kept the watch. The silence wore on Frodo and grated his nerves. "Tell me a story Sam. One of heroes. One that will dispel the dark and bring me hope"  
  
"What should I recite? You know I'm not much good at telling tales."  
  
"Oh, Sam. You really must stop saying that. You are very good at telling tales. Why, you've memorized nearly every one Bilbo told us and probably half the ones you've heard in Rivendell and Lothlorien, even though they were in Elvish!"  
  
"That tisn't true and you know it. Least ways not about the Elvish, sir." Sam smiled at the thought, because he HAD tried, though not successfully.  
  
"Well, whether or not you think yourself a passable story teller, you're the only one I've got right now and if I'm to try and sleep on this stony bed, then I'll need something to keep my mind occupied while my body finally decides to relax. So, tell on, Master Samwise. And make it good."  
  
"All right, then. I'll do just that. But only because I know you need your rest and it seems you'll sit up the rest of the night arguing with me if I don't. Now, which one shall it be? 'Heroes', you say? Something about light... Oh, I know! The one Mister Bilbo told us on All Hallow's Eve that year I was 20 and you were just turned 32. Mister Merry and Mister Pippin were there and it were nearly the coldest All Hallows Eve we'd ever seen. You and me made the tea for everyone..."  
  
"Yes, the story of Jack and the Lantern. I remember it. Though, Uncle Bilbo modified it a bit, as I recall, to fit your request for a love story and Merry's demand for a terror story. Bilbo managed to pull it off well. Do you remember it all?"  
  
"Of course. I retold it for Marigold the next year. Though I changed it a bit and included a pony instead of a cat. She was death on cats, you remember, she'd been scratched by one that summer, got a fever and swore revenge. You wouldn't know that today, seeing how's she's got three. OH, how I miss her. How I miss my whole family."  
  
"Tell me the story, Sam, or you'll have me packing it all in and whisking you back to the Shire so you can tuck your little sister into bed!"  
  
"Now, we can't go having that! Not after all we've been through. I'll not be the one responsible for turning back this quest and failing the whole of Middle-Earth."  
  
"No, it wouldn't be you. Of that I'm certain." Frodo reflected quietly and waited for Sam to begin.  
  
~ End Chapter 1 


	2. Memory

Author: Rachel Stonebreaker  
  
Title: Jack of the Lantern  
  
Rating: G  
  
Summary: Co-authored story with Amy Sweetwater. Amy's version is slightly different and posted under her pen name Amaryllis Sweetwater (246551)on FanFiction.net and Yahoo's List Merry_Piplovers. This story is based on the European myth of Jack and the Lantern, a story about a man who rescues his true love from Hades by using his wits, his friends and a turnip. It's been modified to fit Hobbit fanfiction. Five chapters.  
  
Characters: Our favorite hobbits, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin and Bilbo  
  
Genre: Drama, Friendship  
  
Disclaimer: All hail JRRT, the master. I hope he doesn't mind us playing with his creation. I certainly don't make any money, fame or fortune off of my writings. I WISH I did, but I don't so don't sue me. Authors Notes: Amy conned me into writing this story. She'd heard me tell the Jack-o-lantern story about a zillion times to anyone who would listen as they passed by my ale stand at the Renaissance Faire where I work in the fall. Yeah, until the final Sunday of the Faire, it would get pretty slow the hour before closing, so I'd tell pagan and Elizabethan stories to entertain the crowds. Jack of the Lantern was one of the favorites.  
  
~ Chapter 2 ~ Memory  
  
"Tell us a story, Uncle!" Frodo asked as he wrapped up in his throw and settled into his chair by the fire after handing his old, dear Uncle Bilbo a mug of steaming chamomile tea. He and Sam had already set out mugs for everyone else. The smell of the crushed green leaves and tiny white flowers lent a sweet top note to the stout oak burning down to glowing charcoal in the back of the hearth.  
  
"Well, perhaps. Though it is rather late..." Bilbo sipped at his tea and smiled up knowingly at his oldest "nephew". Frodo had found the brandy and slipped in a hearty spoonful. Bilbo had wondered why Frodo insisted on helping their servant, Samwise, find the tea in the kitchen. Samwise knew perfectly well where the tea resided. Ah, yes, Frodo could be such an intuitive lad. He wasn't really Bilbo's nephew. None of the youngsters crowded close to fire were. Except for the gardener's son, they were all cousins of one sort or the other. But at 110, a seriously ripe old age for any hobbit, Bilbo was called "Uncle". And at his advanced age, he certainly enjoyed a nip now and then, the brandy helping to ease those rare few aches that seemed to be creeping up on him.  
  
He also rejoiced in anyone taking the interest to listen to him mutter and potter and go on about old half forgotten stories and unfinished tales.  
  
"Yes, please do, tell us a tale! I think one full of boogies and ghouls..."  
  
"Now, now, Meriadoc, you don't want to send your youngest cousin to bed with nightmares forming in his head. Not on tonight of all nights."  
  
"I won't have nightmares!" Indignantly, the youngest in the group, sat bolt upright. He'd been laying curled up, as close as he could get to the coals and not catch fire. Slight, almost as much as Frodo, Pippin chilled easy. Though unlike his wiser, much older cousin, he refused to bundle up. He was 22 years younger than Frodo and though they shared Took blood, Frodo seemed to have picked up some common sense about staying warm and healthy. Especially on such a bitter night as this particular All Hallows Eve.  
  
"Are you sure now, Peregrin? I don't want to be responsible for you waking the whole household..." Bilbo chuckled. Of all the children in the entire Shire, Peregrin was the least likely to wake with nightmares. Now, Bilbo suspected, the lad probably instigated a few, what with the pranks he pulled on his sisters. Slimy newts bundled into their underdrawers, squashed frogs in their lesson books, and the worst (or best depending on your point of view) a coney skin sewed up to look like a rat, complete with a whipcord tail and bead eyes and string whiskers, stuffed with barley which had been soaked plump and mixed with whey. When he wailed away on his oldest sister with that monstrosity and the "guts" started to fly, even a number of adults lost their tea. Yes, the lad was a terror and not in the least sensitive. Perhaps that would change as he aged. Bilbo hoped so. The youngster had potential. Bilbo knew he wasn't going to be around to help mold it. He'd have to ask Gandalf to keep an eye on the practical joker just to make sure nothing untoward happened to him before he came of age and finally got some of the wily wisdom his elders were known to eventually possess. It was a wonder that Meridaoc didn't inherit the foolishness of the Tooks. After all he was really as much Took as Peregrin when it came right down to it. Meriadoc inherited his father's Brandybuck name and apparently the infamous Brandybuck courage and common sense. Certainly not that of his mother's line, his mother being the Took's younger sister. Ah, those two lads would make a fine team when their time came to inherit. If Peregrin survived childhood disasters, he'd be Thain. When Meriadoc came of age and his father deemed it the right time, he would become Master of Buckland. Perhaps they'd be lucky enough to have children who fell in love and being second cousins could then marry and keep the two family lines interwoven. More Brandybuck in the Took line wouldn't hurt. And then more Took in those Brandybucks couldn't help but ... well.... help...  
  
"Mister Bilbo, sir? Would there be a story before I'm off to my gaffer's?" Sam, the affable gardener's son, asked ever so quietly thinking perhaps it was time for him to go as maybe Mister Bilbo had nodded off.  
  
"What? Oh, my yes, dear boy, yes! I can't send you off on All Hallows Eve without a proper story to set your hair on end, now can I?"  
  
"Oh, no sir! Not one with ghosties and ghouls. Master Peregrin might'n not be having nightmares, but I'm not too proud to say I would! No, sir, if I could, I'd like to ask for a nice story. One about someone brave and fierce and loyal. Or one about a lass what needs rescuing from a dragon?"  
  
"Oh, Sam, not some sappy love story! I want nasties and imps and hedge witches..." Merry boldly announced his request. "It's All Hallows Eve! We simply must have a terror story!"  
  
Not to be outdone, Pippin chirped up, "YES! I should want a story suitable for tonight!"  
  
Frodo, ever the peace maker, and feeling terrible about his friend Sam's request going under at the insistence of the louder, younger audience, spoke up. "I think we can have it all, don't you Uncle? The one about Jack's son and the lantern, perhaps with an addition or two, eh?"  
  
"Yes, Frodo, I think I could modify it somewhat to appease our entire audience. Yes. Now, let me think." Bilbo tapped his forefinger to his chin and gazed off in thought.  
  
~ End Chapter 2 


	3. The Story

Author: Rachel Stonebreaker  
  
Title: Jack of the Lantern  
  
Rating: G  
  
Summary: Co-authored story with Amy Sweetwater. Amy's version is slightly different and posted under her pen name Amaryllis Sweetwater (246551)on FanFiction.net and Yahoo's List Merry_Piplovers. This story is based on the European myth of Jack and the Lantern, a story about a man who rescues his true love from Hades by using his wits, his friends and a turnip. It's been modified to fit Hobbit fanfiction. Characters: Our favorite hobbits, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin and Bilbo  
  
Genre: Drama, Friendship  
  
Disclaimer: All hail JRRT, the master. I hope he doesn't mind us playing with his creation. I certainly don't make any money, fame or fortune off of my writings. I WISH I did, but I don't so don't sue me. Authors Notes: There are five chapter's total. This one is THE STORY. Bilbo's version. **************************************************************************** ****  
  
~ Chapter 3 ~ The Story  
  
The Story of Jack Of The Lantern (as told by Bilbo Baggins in regards to his mixed and varied young audience on All Hallows Eve)  
  
Once, a very long time ago, there lived a hobbit called Jack's son, or just Jack as his father was now called Old Jack. He was a goodly farmer. A stout lad. And his eye had fallen to the prettiest lass in the Shire.  
  
Bonnie Rose was her name [a heavy sigh from Sam drew everyone's attention momentarily]. Rose she was often called and true to her namesake, she smelled as wondrous and was twice as pretty as the velvet petals. Unlike her name flower, she possessed no thorns. Not an evil or mean bone in her entire body had she.  
  
Everyone who chanced to see her remarked at her beauty, her wit, her charm, her grace [a disgruntled sigh from Merry brought a subdued "ahem" from Frodo], and her modesty. She was a maid of the highest regard.  
  
Jack the simple rustic, held no illusions about courting this fair maiden. She as out of his reach as the star light in the night skies. But still, he, as was the wont of every Shire lad, could still dream of someday seeing her shining face turn towards him and grace him with a smile.  
  
Yes, Mistress Bonnie Rose would make any hobbit a worthy bride. But alas, it was not to be. For her beauty had caught the attention of someone far stronger than a hard working farmer lad, far more shrewd than a wiley business hobbit, far more powerful than a wealthy landowner. And far more Dark, Dangerous, and Devious than any hobbit could ever dream. She caught the eye of [here Bilbo paused for effect] *** The Demon of Darkness *** [the gasp from Pippin caused Merry to jump and Sam to look over worried].  
  
The Demon of Darkness, a force to reckon! The Demon of Darkness, upon which no hobbit ever laid eyes and lived to tell. The Demon of Darkness, who claimed his victims on the night when ghosts walk the earth, when the spirits of the Dead come to visit - in the midnight darkness of All Hallows Eve!  
  
No moon shone that fateful night he came and stole away with fair Bonnie Rose. It was thought no seeing eyes watched as the slippery, whispery shadow floated into the garden where our maid had stepped in search of her gaffer's ginger tom. Rose didn't want the cat out on such a night for fear it would not be there in the morn. She did not count on becoming prey herself.  
  
When the light of the All Saints Morn shone bright over the eastern horizon, the ginger tom was found dead on the garden walk by Mistress Greenhill, who came to pick up the laundry. The Old Gaffer she found senseless by the back door. Of young Bonnie Rose, she found not a trace.  
  
Through the following months, sadness settled on the Shire as not word or sighting of Bonnie Rose would be had. The Old Gaffer had lost his wits. Something had happened that night, something that seemed to have put a curse on the entire hill where it happened. People stopped coming around to visit with The Old Gaffer for fear that the curse would follow them. In truth, there was no curse, only the insane ramblings of a lonely, forlorn old man, living alone without kin.  
  
Jack took pity on the old man, being a kindly young hobbit himself and hating to see someone else, crazy or no, suffer so. He took to visiting the Old Gaffer on his way home from his daily chores. As winter advanced it became apparent no soul was overly willing to help the old hobbit combat the bad weather. Jack asked his father if they shouldn't but take in the Old Gaffer. After much family discussion it was decided that, yes, out of charity and kindness, they could not let the old hobbit suffer and would make room in their small hole for the new addition.  
  
But to their surprise, the Old Gaffer wouldn't accept. He flat refused, don't you know. In a single moment of lucidity, he announced that he had been born in that hole, his daughter had been born and died in that hole and his granddaughter had been born there as well. He was going to die there when it was his time. It was with great distinction that Jack noted the old hobbit did NOT say his granddaughter, Rose, had died there as well. Curious, but courteous, Jack said nothing at the time. He would recall this later and of it would be very glad.  
  
The winter settled heavy on the Shire that year and with some urging from Old Jack and his wife Old Bess, the Old Gaffer took Jack to live with him to care for him, get his meals, cut his wood, and watch after the hole in general. Many a long night (for the nights are long in the winter as we all know) was spent in front of the gentle fire talking of days gone by and exchanging stories. Jack was not a story teller by nature but he was fast becoming one. The Old Gaffer would tell 3 for his every 1 and still Jack ran out of tales. Each night Jack would beg for more time to think of a new story and would usually be granted an extra tale in exchange for a promise of repayment. It was all in good fun and the Old Gaffer never asked for the recompense.  
  
Spring came and then summer. Fall approached and it went without saying that Jack prepared to spend that next winter with The Old Crazy Gaffer (as he was now known). Normally, as you know, we hobbits are not given to malicious gossip (well, there are some, but not all in general) and to label someone Crazy meant that the majority of Hobbiton had to agree. And agree they all did. As the years went on The Old Crazy Gaffer began to talk non-stop about how his Bonnie Rose was still alive, pining away in the clutches of The Great Demon of Darkness. How he heard from her in his dreams and she begged that some hobbit would champion her and bring her back to the Shire. He'd begun to talk TO her on occasion. And this scared many a good hobbit. [Pippin was now sitting upright, head resting on bent knees at Frodo's feet with the tails of the throw tucked in around him. Merry had moved to Pippin's spot by the fire and Sam had moved in right up front of Bilbo].  
  
But it didn't scare good Jack. He listened and said nothing. He took in the rantings and strange talk. He didn't believe it, but he listened. At least he didn't believe until that one All Hallows Eve, several years later, when he opened the back door to let in the grey striped tom (who had replaced the ginger cat) and he'd seen two shadows in the garden. Two shadows, grey and misty - running, entwining, breaking free. One bolted right towards him and he swore it was Bonnie Rose, stretching her hands out towards him. No, not at him but at the light he carried in his hand. The cat arched and hissed and bolted at the bigger shadow yowling. The dangerous looking shadow fled backwards but the second, smaller shadow stayed close. Jack tentatively reached the light forwards but a wind came up and - snffff - the flame went out! But in the faint glow from the light behind him in the kitchen he could just make out the larger shadow jump forward and wrap itself all around the smaller one and together they tore to shreds and wisps on the growing wind.  
  
Jack slammed the door shut, leaning against it, breathing hard and not believing his own eyes. Had he just seen the Demon of Darkness? Was he, Jack, still alive? He found his hands patting his chest and legs to confirm his solidity.  
  
"So you saw them too, did you?" came the creaky voice of the Crazy Old Gaffer.  
  
"WHAT was that?!?!" shouted Jack.  
  
"Time to repay me young lad... that's what that was.... time to repay me"  
  
"But How!?! What?!? I don't understand!!!" Jack sputtered and stammered as the old hobbit made his way to the pantry where they kept the root vegetables ready for next day's meal.  
  
"You'll have to move fast. I would have done it but I haven't the strength. I've the wit and the courage, but not the strength. You, now, on the other hand, have the strength and I'll warrant the courage. The wit, well, that will be the test now won't it?" With that the Old Gaffer went off down the hall to the front and returned momentarily with Jack's cloak and walking stick. "You'll have to travel light. You've only got a few hours. Where you're going,if you don't come back before morn, you won't be coming back at all."  
  
Jack stood through all of this not believing what he was hearing but knowing deep inside he was going on a heroic quest from which he may not return. How did he know this? Hobbits don't venture out. Hobbits don't like difficult situations. Respectable hobbits do not go wandering. So just how did our Mister Jack know in truth he was to be going on a dangerous trip? He just knew. And he knew, somehow, that if he failed, his would not be the only soul unable to return to the Shire. They would loose Bonnie Rose, too!  
  
He grabbed up his cloak and his stick and started for the door. "I've no idea where I'm going, Old Hobbit, or how I'll get there and back, but if you'll point me in the right direction, I'll bring yer Rose back to ye." He reached for the door but was stopped short by the wizened old hobbit's hand on his arm.  
  
"You'll be needing light. The Demon will not come near you whilst you carry light. Take this lantern. Keep it lit. If you loose your light, you'll loose your life! Mind that lesson, lad".  
  
"Yes sir"  
  
"My Rose told me of a guardian to the gates of the Darkness. A great evil sow, she said. She manages to escape occasionally by throwing the sow food and then darting past. Take these neeps, pigs love neeps and I reckon this one, demon or no, will not be an exception. Save yourself a few when you're going in as you'll need some to get out when you've got my Rose with you."  
  
"How will I find my way there? I've no idea where these gates are or where the Darkness begins or what to do or how to find..."  
  
"Hush now, lad, trust yourself. You'll know what to do when the time comes. Trust yourself. As to getting you started, the grey striped tom knows the way. He'll show you. He's been sent here by Rose as a guide. Follow him and he'll not lead you astray."  
  
And with that the Old Gaffer opened the door, the cat jumped up from the bushes onto the window ledge and meowed with a loud insistent yowl. Jack took the proffered lantern, already lit, his small bag with his flint and what-nots and the large bag of neeps.  
  
["What are 'neeps', Uncle?" Asked Pippin.  
  
"HUSH you nit!" chided Merry.  
  
"Oh, I bet YOU don't know, mister I-know-everything!"  
  
"I do so!"  
  
"Then what ARE neeps?"  
  
Merry gave no answer.  
  
"Weeeellll? I'm waaaaaiting."  
  
And still no answer came forward.  
  
Frodo finally broke in, "You both should know, having Tooks for parents! I'm surprised. Pippin, you especially! You hear the Old Tookland accent more than any of us. Neeps. Turrrrrr-neeeps." With the burr on the 'r' heavily accented, it became obvious just what neeps were. Sam laughed out loud to witness the discomfort of both youngsters caught not knowing something they should have known intuitively and then stopped himself with his hand over his mouth when he realized just who he was laughing at.  
  
"Go ahead and laugh at them Sam. They deserve it. There's no harm in it, you're among friends" Bilbo leaned forward and laid a hand gently on Sam's shoulder, laughing out loud himself as Pippin tried the accent on for size and then went on practicing with other root vegetable names.  
  
"Carrr-ots. Parrrrr-snips. Po-taaaaa-toes"  
  
"There's no 'r' in Potatos, Pip, but somehow you still manage to make it sound archaic!" Frodo laughed. "Now, if we could get back to our story, I'd like to get to bed BEFORE the fire dies out."  
  
"Just so" agreed Bilbo and the lads settled back in for the remainder of the story.]  
  
Out Jack strode, gallant in looks, yet fearing for his life, determined to not fail in this mission set upon him. The Old Hobbit stood at the door watching Jack and the cat leave the garden through the side gate and walk down the hill towards the forest.  
  
Jack and the striped tom made good time, mostly because Jack had to run to keep the cat in sight. He'd no clue where he was going, so out of breath he was following the grey streak from tree to tree. Soon, though, the mist of the fog ebbing in around the trees made it nearly impossible for him to even see the grey tom and he had to call out for the cat to wait.  
  
No sooner had he voiced his request, then he heard a sound; a grinding, snapping, ghastly sound, like the sound the gristle makes when you snap a cooked chicken leg from the thigh socket. Jack whirled around and in doing so .... the lantern went out. In a panic he groped for his bag of what- nots for his flint and dropped the entire sack. Then he dropped his bag of neeps, spilling them to the ground. He felt something brush his leg and cried out in terror dropping the lantern at the last. With a CRASH, he heard the lantern break apart and his heart turned to stone. He fell to the ground so frightened, he could not move. The brush against his leg happened again. He was too terrified to even try to kick out to save himself. The loud MEOW at his feet unsettled him so badly he started upright and jumped back what must have been 3 feet.  
  
MEOW again and this time he realized it was the tom warning him about the light. He fumbled and fretted trying to re-light the broken lantern but he couldn't keep the candle lit without the walls of the lantern shuttering out the wind. A loud moan caused him to scream out in fright. He felt more than heard the Demon of Darkness approaching. With his doom so near at hand Jack froze.  
  
HISSssss - FFFTTTttt, he heard the cat spit and strike at something and the cold fog which had encircled him blew away ever so slightly, allowing a very small amount of light from the setting sliver moon to fall onto his pile of neeps. Quickly, before the Demon could return, Jack grabbed a neep, took out his belt knife and cut off the top. He intended to use pieces of the neep to repair the lantern. But as the sliced off top didn't even come close to fixing a repair in the smashed lantern, Jack despaired. Yet somewhere, from within, from without, he was not sure but from somewhere a voice told him to make a new lantern. Make one from the neep. So working almost in total darkness and in sheer terror for his soul, he scooped out the flesh of the largest neep and cut slits in the sides to allow the light to seep out. Putting his stump of a candle in it, he threaded a string from his what-not bag through the neep and its lid and lit the candle with his flint.  
  
All the while, he sat and listened to the striped tom waging battle with the Demon. The wailing and squealing set his hair on end and his teeth to hurting. But still he carried on with his task. He wasn't going to allow the tom to give his life in vain! Finally, Jack was able to get the new lantern lit. He searched about for the cat. Finding it laying on its side, seemingly battled to death, he scooped it up, resting it in the crook of his arm. He could see and feel the Demon advancing, menacing him with a cold chill to his heart and a dread to the very marrow of his bones. But Jack remembered the words of the Old Gaffer. Light will keep the Demon at bay. Now, with the lantern swinging from his arm and the cat bundled as safely as he could manage, he advanced on the Demon, following it as it backed down and away.  
  
Through the paths and twists he chased that Demon, his little neep lantern, so craftily fashioned staying lit better than the original one he'd brought with him from the hobbit hole. Time seemed to press on without end as the Demon tried in vain to blow out the light and snatch Jack to his domain of darkness. But Jack was stalwart. He'd made a promise, he'd bring Bonnie Rose back or he'd die trying.  
  
In the last it was Bonnie Rose who found them. She'd managed to get away from her cage again and had followed Jack's light, circling behind, placing Jack between herself and the Demon. They played out this dance, Jack keeping sight of both the Demon and Rose, working with his last ounce of strength to stay between them, clutching the cat to his breast his little carved neep swinging on its string handle.  
  
And as the first rays of the All Saints Day morn crept over the low horizon, a terrifying banshee wail screeched causing Jack to fall to his knees, dropping the cat and the neep while he covered his ears in agony.  
  
When he came to his senses, who did he see leaning over him clutching his hand? Not the Demon of Darkness, but his own Bonnie Rose. Her tears are what woke him. Her tears and the warm weight of the striped tom on his chest as it kneaded and purred. He lay still for a moment, absently stroking the cat with his free hand and wondering just where he was and who this beauteous maiden crying over him was.  
  
When she started thanking him for saving her, his wits collected about him and he sat up, not wishing to appear rude in the presence of one so fair and above his station.  
  
"Nay not, fair maid, I did not save you. It was the cat who led me to you. I, myself, fainted at the last. It must have been this brave beast who finally fought off the Demon and rescued you."  
  
"No, goodly sir, it was you. The cat played its role well and for that it shall receive a grand reward. But, no, Good Jack. I have been watching you watch over my Gaffer. On the New Moon, for months untold now, I have escaped my prison and tried to go home, only to be caught up by the Demon and drug back to the Darkness. But you, dearest Jack, came for me with a lantern that could not be blown out and you stayed with me, keeping the Demon at bay with your light until the rays of the sun could dispel the Everlasting Darkness and break the enchanted spell. Jack, dear Jack, my Jack, it was you who saved me. You and your lantern."  
  
"I shall carry a light for thee, always, my love" he answered with the honesty of a hobbit smitten to the core.  
  
All the way back to the hobbit hole, Jack carrying the cat as gently as he could, wrapped warm in his soft linen undershirt, the two hobbits talked. Bonnie Rose carried on about how kind Jack had been to watch after her sweet Gaffer, who'd been the only hobbit besides herself to live after seeing the Demon of Darkness. Well, and then there was Jack, too. They made a threesome, they did. When her eyes were not staring off into the distance remembering fair times past and dreaming of good times yet to come they were staring at Jack with admiration and a bit of something else. Something more. Adoration. She had fallen in love with her hero and she desired him greatly. He held her close. They kissed right there in the mid-day light. Kissed their first kiss and realized the intenseness of their bond.  
  
They were married the next spring. The Old Gaffer hosted a tremendous wedding feast and Jack insisted the grey striped tom be allowed a place at the feasting table. People thought him strange, a bit tetched in the head but they allowed him his quirks. Quirks such as carving neeps and setting lights in them all around his and Rose's smial every All Hallows Eve. Quirks such as giving his grey striped tom the best cut of meat at every meal. After all, he'd been the only one to face down the Demon of Darkness. And he'd brought their Bonnie Rose home, safe and sound.  
  
~ End Chapter 3 


	4. As Fate Would Have It

Author: Rachel Stonebreaker  
  
Title: Jack of the Lantern  
  
Rating: G  
  
Summary: This story is based on the European myth of Jack and the Lantern, a story about a man who rescues his true love from Hades by using his wits, his friends and a turnip. It's been modified to fit Hobbit fanfiction.  
  
Disclaimer: All hail JRRT, the master. I hope he doesn't mind us playing with his creation. I certainly don't make any money, fame or fortune off of my writings. I WISH I did, but I don't so don't sue me.  
  
Authors Notes: To Hoodwink24 ~ this is a continuation story. Some authors post just a chapter at a time and not the whole story at once. I hope you're checking back periodically to see the new chapters! Guess I learned a lesson on this one... state up front that new chapters will be posted later.  
  
Shirebound ~ I REALLY appreciate the reviews. I live for reviews (pathetic, I know) and you always come through (but feel guilty just because I said that, LOL!!!)  
  
Robin Gurl's INSANE ~ ooooo! I creeped you out! Fantastic! It's gets fairly sappy (as Merry would say) from here on out.  
  
GreyLadyBast ~ I hope I've satisfied your craving for a ghost story?  
  
**************************************************************************** ********  
  
~ Chapter 4 ~ As Fate Would Have It  
  
With the story at a close, Sam excused himself, cleared away the tea and set about getting ready for the short walk down the hill to his gaffer's hole. Frodo accompanied him to the kitchen and then into the hall.  
  
"Well, Sam, change that name from Jack's son to Samwise, and I think we could have a true life couple... " Frodo handed Sam his cloak and picked his own from the peg on the wall. They both bundled up against the chill of the late night.  
  
"Oh, no! Not me sir! Don't you go on like that about Miss Rosie and me. Besides, I haven't the courage of that there Jack. Nor the brains to have figured out the way to use that light to keep the demon at bay. " The door closed behind them and they made the short walk to the front gate.  
  
"Don't underestimate yourself, Sam. You're made of strong material. I'd trust you to rescue the whole of Middle Earth if it were needed." Frodo rearranged Sam's cloak to cover his neck a bit more and smoothed the cloth over his shoulders. Sam accepted the ministrations with ease. Frodo was a friend now, more than a master. They did for each other as was necessary to make sure each was comfortable. And they would argue as only best friends could.  
  
"You ought'n not be saying stuff like that, Frodo Baggins. It taint true."  
  
"You leave the judgement of your character to me, Samwise Gamgee. You obviously aren't taking it seriously enough!" Frodo smacked him hard on the shoulder meaning it to be a friendly gaff. It was somewhat harder than intended as it caught Sam off guard and tumbled him to the ground. Frodo reached out and pulled the gardener into an embrace, rubbing the sore spot and muttering an apology. "Oh, Sam, I am so very sorry. That was totally uncalled for!"  
  
"Tweren't but nothing, Sir." When Frodo still look terribly chagrined, Sam added, "ye don't have half me strength, so don't go thinkin' ye kin knock me off me own feet with a tap like that just every day" his accent coming on strong as his awkwardness at his friend's obvious embarrassment mounted.  
  
Frodo's hearty laugh eased the tension Sam was feeling and with a wave and a smile they parted company. Frodo watched Sam walk down the path until he disappeared around the curve of the hill. Pulling his cloak closer, he reentered the smial. Only to find both Bilbo and Pippin asleep by the fire and Merry curled up with a book trying to read by the too dim light.  
  
"Off to bed with you now! And see Pippin to his. Make sure he's bundled and that you check the fire Sam left for you."  
  
"Yes, sir. Do you want any help with Uncle?" Merry unwound from his throw and began to gather up Pippin.  
  
"No, young Meriadoc, that won't be necessary. I can shuffle myself off to my own bed. Though, Frodo, if you'd lend me an arm, I'd appreciate it."  
  
Eventually the story teller and the listeners found themselves safely in their cozy beds, all five of them asleep before the sliver of the moon set in the blue-black sky.  
  
~ End Chapter 4 


	5. I Will Keep A Light For You

Author: Rachel Stonebreaker  
  
Title: Jack of the Lantern  
  
Rating: G  
  
Summary: This story is based on the European myth of Jack and the Lantern, a story about a man who rescues his true love from Hades by using his wits, his friends and a turnip. It's been modified to fit Hobbit fanfiction. Five chapters.  
  
Characters: Our favorite hobbits, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin and Bilbo  
  
Genre: Drama, Friendship  
  
Disclaimer: All hail JRRT, the master. I hope he doesn't mind us playing with his creation. I certainly don't make any money, fame or fortune off of my writings. I WISH I did, but I don't so don't sue me. Authors Notes: Co-authored story with Amy Sweetwater. Amy's version is slightly different and posted at (http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1019871) on FanFiction.net and Yahoo's List Merry_Piplovers.  
  
~ Pansy, thanks for the boost in confidence. I didn't know anyone actually WATCHED for my stories (oh my!)  
  
~ Tiggivon, the Neeps were pretty fun. In case you haven't figured it out by my other stories, I'm a sucker for the fanon inspired "Tookborough Accent"... *snicker*. A friend asked once, do the Scots think we Americans have a cool accent, too? To which an Australian friend answered, "Nah, you all just sound grunty and harsh. Like we do!" Needless to say, we were all dispirited.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
~ Chapter 5 ~ I Will Keep A Light For You  
  
"Is that it, Sam? Is the story over? Do you think you might be able to build me a nice cozy fire like we had at Uncle Bilbo's that night?" Frodo whispered to Sam as he shifted to find ease for his aching bones. It was of no use. There'd be no ease for him anytime soon.  
  
"I'd be doing just that, sir, if'n I had the means, but there ain't no wood to be had in this barren wasteland. I wish I were a wizard, I'd light up my staff and at least cast you some light for a bit of comfort. It's so dark tonight." Sam tucked Frodo's cloak in around the tired hobbit and fussed with the bit covering Frodo's hands.  
  
"Yes. It is dark. But it's hard for me to tell if it's any darker now than during the day. It is night, isn't it Sam? Or is it day?"  
  
Frodo's musing hurt Sam to the quick. He knew his master was fading, that the Ring was a burden burning away Frodo's essence and dragging him into perpetual darkness. Sam would have to find a beacon for Mister Frodo. A light that he'd be able to see even in his dreams, for he walked mostly in dreams now. It frightened Sam something fierce. But he'd protect his Frodo if it meant he'd have to face the Demon of Darkness, or the Dark Lord Himself, he surely would.  
  
"Sam! What's that I hear?" Frodo struggled to sit upright to investigate a non-existent sound.  
  
"It were nothing. Just a prick of your imagination." Perhaps it was nothing, Sam didn't know for sure. Frodo could hear things now that Sam couldn't. But, still, Sam's internal sense wasn't warning him right now. Frodo was starting at things in his mind. Sam shushed Frodo and smoothed his hair in a gesture that always worked on his younger sister to quiet her in the middle of the night. Frodo lay back down and breathed a heavy sigh, trusting his faithful Sam to watch over them both in this desolate waste.  
  
"It's so dark, Sam... I can't go to sleep. What if something comes out to snatch me away? What if I loose my way in all of these shadows?"  
  
"Sleep, now, Frodo. I'll keep the bogies away. I still don't think I believe you when you say I'm as smart as Jack, but do know I'm as loyal and I'll not be letting anything happen to you. I'll keep a light for you so you can always find your way back home..."  
  
~ The End 


End file.
